Contaminated
by McGeeklover
Summary: "Well, there was something real fishy in the lake water," began Hodges with a grin. Nick huffed in annoyance at Hodges' stupid pun while waiting for the man to continue. "I found that the water was swimming with a virus called Salmonella typhi. It's a very rare…" But the rest of the lab rat's words faded out as realization hit Nick like a truck. Greg had been in that water.
1. Chapter 1

**Contaminated**

**Chapter 1**

**Disclaimer: Don't own, just borrowing :)**

**Enjoy!**

**P.S: 22 more days til CSI S13 premiere! Who's as excited as I am?**

"You've got to be kidding me; I'm _not_ going in there."

"You lost rock paper scissors, Greggo, so you have to get the body…and chop, chop 'cause Grissom is on his way down," Nick smirked as he held out a pair of water boots to Greg.

Greg grumbled and snatched the boots from Nick and pulled them on. Of all the places a dead body could be, it had to be in the middle of nowhere in a lake. And of all times he could've lost at rock paper scissors with Nick, it had to be today. But he was pretty bad at it anyways no matter who he played it with. But still! He glanced at Nick once more, who grinned at him and waved him away, before he waded into the swampy looking water to retrieve the body of a thirtyish looking business man.

Greg scrunched up his nose in disgust when the sickening stench reached his senses. _Why does the body have to be so far out?_ By the time he reached the body, the water was almost up to his chest.

"Oh god this is so gross," Greg whispered to himself as he forced himself not to puke. He'd wait 'til he got back to the lab. He'd also wait until he got back to the lab to shove his foot up Nick's-

"G! Come on hurry up, we ain't got all day!"

Greg grumbled inwardly and rolled his eyes in annoyance. Nick had been particularly bossy and short-tempered since the Warrick incident. He couldn't really blame the man, though; Warrick had been Nick's best friend and now he was gone. It'd take a while for things to go back to normal.

"Greg!"

And he also had been taking most of his anger out on him. "I'm coming, I'm coming! Geez, maybe if you were out here in this muck, you'd know how hard it is to swim in it."

"Whatever."

Greg clenched his jaw and took a deep breath…which was probably not the best thing to do. Greg gagged and felt the bile reach his mouth. _Keep it in Greg; don't make a fool out of yourself in front of Nick._

Greg grabbed the body from underneath the armpits and paddled back to shore, though the task was a bit harder, because, now, he was carrying a possibly 190 lb. body, plus the water soaked clothes on both of them didn't help much either. By the time he reached shore, he was exhausted and he pushed the body towards Nick. Just as he was about to step out, he clumsily slipped on a rock and fell back into the water with a yelp. Muddy water entered his mouth and nose and when he emerged to the surface he could hear Nick and David, who had just arrived, snickering. He glared daggers at the two as he stood up, water dripping from his hair and into his eyes. As Greg waddled out, he winced when he put pressure on his ankle. _Dammit, must've sprained or twisted it._ But Greg wasn't about to tell anyone that; it wasn't more important than finding a killer.

"Greg, what happened?" He heard Grissom call out.

"Was just getting the body out of the water," Greg muttered.

"Well, you should've put a wetsuit on; go to the Denali, there should be a blanket and some extra coveralls there. When you're done, I want you to go back with David and the body so you can see if any evidence can be salvaged."

Greg sniffed and nodded as he watched Grissom head down to Nick and David. Shaking his head, he trudged up to the car, changed, and wrapped the blanket around his shivering body. Six minutes later, he was on his back to the lab with David. The ride was quiet and a bit awkward and when they finally got to the lab, Greg didn't hesitate to jump out and head inside.

The rest of the shift went by extremely slow…well for Greg anyways. Ever since he got back, he hadn't been feeling too well. Out of the blue, he developed a cough along with a pounding headache. He prayed to god that hadn't been anything deadly in that lake or he was in trouble. When his shift ended, Greg didn't even bother to go to the locker room; he made a beeline for the exit and to the parking garage. Catherine and Sara both noticed this and became a bit concerned. They also noticed the flushed look on the kid's face and wondered if he was coming down with something or if he was still upset about Warrick. Well, of course he'd be; who wouldn't. It hit pretty hard for all of them, none more than Nick though. Sarah decided she'd talk to Greg tomorrow during shift. Maybe he just needed someone to comfort him.

~+CSI+~

Greg peeled his face from his sweat covered pillow with a hoarse groan. The only reason he was waking up was because some irritating high- pitched noise was making its way through his foggy mind. It had been a few days since his unexpected dunk in the lake and to tell the truth, he was feeling worse than ever. At first he thought he might've caught a cold, but his symptoms very much worse than those associated with the common cold. And though Grissom was smart, apparently he wasn't smart enough to notice Greg's sickness was more than just a harmless cold, which is why he sent Greg home and told him to come back bright and ready for the next shift.

The young CSI blinked opened his eyes, only to be welcomed to an out of focus room. There was a light flashing next to his head along with the ringing noise and Greg assumed it was his cell. Just as his fingers fumbled with the device, the ringing stopped. _Thank god. Wait, no not thank god._ He missed a call- actually he missed ten- and he had a feeling it had been Grissom. He also had a feeling that he was late…really late. He lifted his head, waited for the nausea to pass and then looked at the clock. When his vision cleared he saw the time and swore loudly. He was over two hours late for work.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit," Greg whispered as he jumped out of bed. Almost instantly, the room flipped and he found himself on the floor breathing harshly while black spots danced in front of his eyes. "I'll remember not to do that again." Slowly this time, he got up and went around the room grabbing clothes and rushing into the bathroom. He knew there would be no time for a shower so he splashed cold water on his pasty, bruised looking face and hastily brushed his teeth. In a matter of five minutes, Greg was out the door and, not trusting himself to drive, hailed a taxi. _Grissom is so gonna kill me._

~+CSI+~

"Greg, do you have an explanation as to why you-"

"I know, I know, I'm sorry. Overslept. Won't happen again, Grissom," Greg interrupted wearily as he passed the older man in the hallway. He wasn't in the mood for a lecture right now; he just wanted to get to work, get it over with, and then go home to curl up in a ball for the weekend. He was so tired he failed to notice the flash of concern pass through Grissom's eyes.

When he reached the locker room, he was grateful that it was empty. Now he could have some time to take it slow for his aching body without anyone noticing. Greg opened his locker and began taking things out. But as time passed, his headache grew intense so he stopped and rested his forehead against the cool locker. He knew he couldn't stay like this forever, but just doing this helped a lot.

"10 pm, Greg, nice of you to- G? You okay, man?"

Greg snapped open his eyes and rolled his head so he could see who was speaking. _Nick._

"Hey you don't look so good, are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine, Nick," Greg said irritably while closing his eyes and looking away from the older CSI.

"Hey look, man; I'm sorry for the way I treated you Wednesday; I shouldn't be taking my anger out on you."

"Don't worry about it," Greg croaked while straightening himself and slamming his locker shut. Just as he was about to take a step, he swayed and leaned against the locker.

"Whoa! Greg, you alright?"

Greg blinked his eyes a few times to clear his vision as black spots threatened to bring him down to the floor. He felt strong hands on his shoulders and winced; his body ached and just a single touch hurt like a bitch. He jerked away and brushed past Nick towards the hallway.

"Greg, are you sure you're okay? You almost passed-"

"I'm fine, Nick! I just have a cold so stop asking me if I'm okay; I'm okay! God!"

Greg stomped out of the room leaving Nick completely bewildered yet worried. Greg _never _yelled at him…at anyone, so where did all that come from? Something was up with Greg and it definitely wasn't a cold. Shaking his head, he walked towards Hodges' lab station to get some results from the water sample. He'd try and talk to him later.

~+CSI+~

Greg rubbed his sore throat after he coughed. He really shouldn't have yelled; one, because Nick didn't need to be yelled at and two, now his headache was getting to the point where he felt he might puke and his throat felt like it was on fire. _That's on you, Greg._ Sighing heavily, he went into his lab station to process some evidence for the case. It was going to be a long day…if he even got through it without passing out.

~+CSI+~

"Hey Hodges, you got my water sample?" Nick said.

"It was finished hours ago, Nick, you're the one who's slow."

Nick rolled his eyes and sighed. "Well?"

"_Well,_ there was something real _fishy_ in the lake water," began Hodges with a grin.

Nick huffed in annoyance at Hodges' stupid pun while waiting for the man to continue.

"I found that the water was swimming with a virus called Salmonella typhi. It's a very rare…"

But the rest of the lab rat's words faded out as realization hit Nick like a truck. _Greg_ had been in that water. _Son of bitch!_

"The symptoms are nas-"

"Hodges, if someone were to swim in that disease infected lake, would they catch the virus?" Nick said frantically.

"Well, duh, it enters the body through ingestion or inhalation. Even if the person didn't inhale any water, they'd still become infected, because the bacteria would manage to get up the person's nose. Why?"

"I gotta go," Nick muttered as he rushed out of the room and towards to where Greg was working. This couldn't be happening; this _shouldn't _be happening! Not to Greg at least. This was all his fault; he shouldn't have made the kid go into the water without making sure nothing was dangerous contaminating it. How could he have been so stupid!? No wonder Greg looked like shit and it definitely wasn't a cold. Turning the corner, he willed his legs to move faster; the longer it took, the more the disease spread throughout Greg's body…and that could mean deadly consequences. He finally made it to Greg's lab station, but what he saw made his blood run cold. Greg's shoulders were heaving so bad it was visible; the kid was leaning against the table, his hands gripping the side like a life-line and his eyes were blinking repeatedly. In then, in a split second, Nick saw Greg's eyes roll up into his head and start a quick descent to the floor.

He desperately ran into the room to reach the younger man before he hit the ground.

"Greg!"

~+CSI+~

Greg was feeling like he was gonna pass out any second. His heart was beating painfully against his chest, sweat was covering his sickly pale face and he could barely concentrate, because the black spots would not go away. And to make the job even more complicated, his hands were shaking like an earthquake…which was drastically affecting his work.

"Dammit!" He cursed as he dropped a test tube on the ground. And just as he was about to bend over to pick the pieces up, a wave of nausea mixed with dizziness and pain hit him like a tidal wave. He quickly leaned against the table to try and regain his composure; he grabbed the edges tightly when the pain didn't subside. His breathing became labored and restricted, his stomach started cramping and he could feel his body losing the fight, it being too weak to go against the darkness. The last thing he knew before blacking out was someone shouting his name frantically.

"Greg!"

~+CSI+~

"Greg? Greggo!" Nick shouted as he fell to his knees next to his pale, motionless friend. He shook Greg's shoulders gently in hopes to rouse the man, but Greg remained unresponsive.

"Crap…Help! Someone call an ambulance, now!" Nick lifted Greg's head and placed it on his lap as he cried for help. And that's when he felt Greg's forehead was burning up. If they didn't get help now, things could go south…fast.

Grissom looked up from his Sudoku puzzle in confusion as well as worry. Someone calling for help and an ambulance was not good. He stood up and just as he reached the hallway, Catherine and Sara were following behind him with frightened looks on their faces. It sounded like Nick was shouting, so either he was hurt or….

"Nicky what hap- oh no," Catherine said as she, too, knelt next to Greg.

"Nick what happened to Greg?" Grissom asked as he watched the scene before him.

"I don't know he just collapsed; Hodges found out the water Greg was in a few days ago was infected with Salmonella typhi."

"Damn."

"The ambulance is on its way," Sara breathed. "Is he gonna be okay?"

Nick ignored the question and looked down at his lifeless friend; all he could think about was how all of this was his fault. _He _had made Greg play rock paper scissors- what a childish game, _he_ had made Greg go into the water, and_ he_ had taken all his anger out on the innocent kid. Greg was mourning just as much as he was and instead of comforting him, he gave him a hard time. Some friend he was.

"I'm sorry, G," Nick whispered so that no one else but he and, hopefully, Greg could hear. "God, I'm so sorry."

**TBC**

** Well? How do you like it so far? Good, bad, keep going, stop? Let me know! REVIEWS! :) But really all I can say is: poor Greggo :( too bad I'm not gonna go easy on him in the next few chapters mwahahaha! Also I apologize for any OOCness, or virus mistakes. They are mine.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Thanks for favoriting, alerting, etc etc etc. The reviews made me so happy so here's chapter two! 21 More days!**

"Guys, you need to stand back so we can get your friend stable," a paramedic said as he knelt next to Greg.

Everyone but Nick moved; he wasn't about to leave his best friend alone.

"Sir!"

"Nicky you need to let the paramedics do their job," Catherine whispered as she placed a hand on the man's shoulder.

"I promise he's in good hands," the other paramedic said with an assuring smile on her face.

Nick hesitated for a second before reluctantly letting go of Greg's cold hand and standing back with the rest of the group. They all watched silently as the two EMT's moved Greg onto a stretcher, yelling out medical jargon and poking and prodding his body.

"Pupils are dilated, temperature- 104.4 and climbing, crap we need to cool him down."

Nick felt his own cheeks blush when the paramedics were forced to cut off Greg's clothes. The kid would _not_ like that and if he were conscious he'd be kicking and screaming to let him have some dignity. But Greg wasn't conscious…it almost looked like he was one of their dead bodies. Nick closed his eyes; he didn't want to think about that.

Once Greg was down to his boxers, the paramedics gasped. Practically all of Greg's chest was covered with small, flat, rose-colored spots that ran up towards his neck and behind his shoulders. No doubt his back was covered with the rash as well. Why hadn't he told them he was feeling sick? Yeah sure he said he had a "cold" but even the dumbest person here could tell that he was lying. Why didn't they ask if he was okay…like really ask? Sit him down or bring him down to Doc at least. Now they all felt extremely guilty. The paramedics quickly placed cooling blankets over his body and icepacks underneath his armpits.

"His throat is inflamed and partially swollen; keep a breathing tube close just in case."

"Just in case," Nick thought. "Just in case Greggo stops breathing. God, what have I done?"

The paramedics finally finished up by placing a collar around Greg's neck and an oxygen mask on his colorless face. They situated a thin sheet over the cooling blankets for the time being and Nick was thankful for that…he was sure Greg would be as well.

"On my count," the male paramedic said. "1, 2, 3, lift." The two lifted Greg up and placed the stretcher onto the gurney.

"Where are you bringing him?" Grissom asked calmly.

"Spring Valley, sir."

Grissom nodded in acknowledgement and watched as Greg was wheeled out the room. Lab techs and other CSI's had crowded around the windows, watching the chaotic scene.

"What happened?" Archie asked Mandy.

"I think Greg passed out; it's not looking good either," she replied, biting her lip.

"Make a hole!" the male EMT shouted.

The crowd separated and just as the gurney was about to turn the corner, Nick bolted after them. He already screwed things up with Greg and he wasn't gonna let the kid go through this alone. He walked besides the gurney, not tearing his eyes away from the man he considered a little brother. Suddenly, Greg's eyes began to flicker open.

"Greg? G, can you hear me?" Nick said, placing a gentle hand on the man's shoulder.

Greg looked around sluggishly before his gaze landed on Nick. The Texan could instantly see the pain and fear in the glazed over brown eyes. They locked eyes for a split moment before Greg's eyes dipped closed and he was oblivious to the world once again. Nick swallowed nervously; Greg had to make it. If Greg died it'd be because of him…and he'd never forgive himself for that.

~+CSI+~

Nick watched quietly through the window as doctors and nurses crowded around Greg's unconscious form. Greg's fever had spiked to 105 in the ambulance and the kid was searing to the touch. He prayed the cooling blankets would be enough; he'd hate to see the kid be put in an ice bath…but it was getting dangerously close to that possibility. A nurse began rubbing cream on Greg's chest and for a second, Nick smiled at the thought of Greg making a joke or flirting with the girl…if only he were conscious. The young CSI's normally spiked up hair was now matted down with sweat, loose strands sticking to his forehead. He had caused this. It made him sick to his stomach that Greg was going through all of this, because he had been a jackass.

"Nick?" A soft voice said behind him as a warm hand touched his back. He knew it was Sara, but he felt the bile rising up and he pushed past her, bolting towards the nearest bathroom.

~+CSI+~

He was burning alive, being torn apart by angry souls in hell. His skin was ripped off his body, his eyes were bleeding and his bones were snapping into little pieces. He was going to die…if he wasn't already. So much pain and agony and fear; he could smell the burning flesh, hear tortured screams reverberating in his eardrums, smell disinfectant…wait, what? Where was he? Hell didn't have bleach right? That smell could only mean…great, a hospital. But why?

Suddenly he felt his hand being weighted down and he could finally feel himself returning to the world of consciousness.

"Greg, Hun, you gotta pull through this for us. We can't lose any more family. Please don't leave us; don't give up."

_Catherine? God, it sounds like she's been crying. I need to wake up; I don't want her to cry, not for me._ Using all his energy, Greg pried his eyes open with a soft groan.

"Greg?" He heard Catherine say.

"Mmmm."

"Greg can you hear me, honey?"

Greg blinked his eyes open sluggishly as his head lolled on the pillow. He whimpered slightly when the small movement jarred his sensitive head and Catherine gently squeezed his hand to assure him everything would be okay. Finally, his half mast, glassy eyes looked at her face and he smiled weakly. Catherine looked at the kid sadly when she saw he couldn't even focus in one spot. She hated seeing him so sick.

"C-Catherine?"

"Hey Greg. How ya feeling?" _Stupid question Catherine; obviously he feels like shit._

"Tired."

"Go back to sleep, kiddo. We'll all be right here, don't worry."

Greg raised his eyebrows swiftly before his eyelids drooped shut. Catherine looked at Greg sadly as she stroked the top of his hand with her thumb. His hand that was so unnaturally cold, yet his fever was nearly 104. It was probably because of the cooling blankets, but still, it felt weird.

"Please get better," she whispered. "Please."

~+CSI+~

Nick looked up from the sink and into the mirror. He looked like crap…well he did just finish puking his guts out for three minutes straight. His face was pasty and covered with a thin layer of sweat while his breaths came out shaky and labored. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe.

"I'm so sorry Greg; I'm so-"

"Way to go, Nick."

The Texan jumped as a voice echoed throughout the bathroom…or was he imagining things? When he looked in the mirror again, he gasped and turned around.

"Warrick?!" He must've hit his head on the toilet or something, because there was no way in hell this was real.

"You nearly killed our best friend- well let me think, I don't know if he's your friend. I don't even know if he'll make it. I know it's been hard the past week, but there's no reason for you to take it out on others…especially Greg."

Nick still leaned against the sink with a look of pure shock on his features. He opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, unable to make his voice cooperate. When he finally did, his voice was soft and broken.

"I know; all of this is my fault. It should be me in that hospital bed or-"

"Maybe if you were thinking straight instead of coming up with ways to make Greg's day miserable, then both of you would still be at the lab and not here."

Nick remained silent; partially in shock and partially in shame. Warrick was right. No one would be here if he actually bothered to get the CDC down and check the water. The lake had looked questionable, but Nick could've cared less that day.

"Wait, you said he might not make it; is he going to die?" Nick said with fear in his voice.

Warrick raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips…which didn't mean anything good. And when Nick blinked, Warrick was gone just like that and he was alone once more. He swallowed before rushing out of the bathroom and towards Greg's room. Greg couldn't die, not like this.

**TBC**

** Is Greggo gonna die? I don't know maybe, maybe not ;) stay tuned for the next chapter :) REVIEWS!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**This chapter is for Lordy100 cause she's ready every single one of my fanfics :) LOVE HER! Everyone else thanks for the awesome reviews so here's the next chapter! Enjoy! P.S if any of my medical stuff is wrong, I apologize, I tried my best to research everything for correct info.**

Greg blearily opened his eyes, praying that he wouldn't be dead tired. He didn't want to sleep anymore; every single time he drifted off into the dream world- more so nightmare world- he'd be engulfed in flames. But, of course, his eyes still wanted to close on him. He groaned in frustration, hoping someone in the room would hear him, but no one came to his side. _Weird._ Coughing violently, he squeezed his eyes to try and clear his vision.

"Aw poor little piggy is sick," a muffled voice said causing Greg's eyes to snap open.

"W-Who's there?" Greg whispered in a scratchy voice.

"You don't recognize my voice? I'm hurt."

Greg blinked again and suddenly a bunch of shapes were surrounding his bed and it looked like…

"No," he breathed. It was the Fannysmakin' gang. This couldn't be happening. "Y-you're supposed to be in jail."

"We got out on good behavior," sneered Pig.

"That's not possible,"

"Believe it kid; and now you're gonna get yours. We weren't finished with you yet."

The gang circled in closer, giving no room for Greg to escape. His breathing intensified and he watched as everyone glared or smiled evilly at him.

"I hope you said goodbye to your mommy," Pig growled as he wrapped his hands around Greg's neck and two others held his arms down.

"No! Please don't do this, please!"

~+CSI+~

Just as Nick turned the corner, he heard the intercom crackle and a nurse's voice sounded loudly throughout the wing.

"Code gray in in room 375, code gray in 375."

_Greg was in 375. Shit!_ Nick slow jogging formed into a sprint, desperately wanting to know what the hell code gray was. He knew code blue was cardiac arrest, but what was happening to his little brother now?

When he finally reached the room, it was filled with nurses and Greg's doctor was trying to calm his patient down.

"Please, don't hurt me, please don't. They're gonna beat me up again, somebody help me!"

"Damn, the hallucinations are starting, we need to sedate him or he's gonna hurt himself."

Nick inhaled sharply and knew what Greg was seeing. Pig; he thought he was back in that ally with the bastards who beat him up the first time. "No! Don't touch him; I'll calm him down."

Nick rushed over and squeezed past the staff to Greg. He put his hands on Greg's shoulders and looked him in the eyes. Greg's eyes, however, were glazed over and filled with panic.

"Greg! Greg, come on buddy it's not real. What you're seeing is not real; Pig is gone, everyone that hurt you is gone."

Greg whimpered, still struggling in Nick's hold, but it wasn't as violent as before.

"That's it Greggo, you're safe. No one can hurt you anymore."

Finally, Greg's eyes squeezed shut and opened to reveal clear, but alarmed brown eyes.

"N-Nick?"

"Yeah, man. I'm right here."

"W-what…what-" but before he could get in another word, Greg's eyes closed and he went limp in Nick's arms.

"Greg? Greg, buddy?" He turned to the nurse, thinking that they sedated him when he specifically told them not to, but he saw the syringe and it was still full. Greg just passed out from shock and exhaustion. "Shit, Greggo."

~+CSI+~

Sara ran down the hallway from the cafeteria frantically. Nick had called her and told her what happened to Greg. The poor kid; he didn't need this at all. Skidding to a stop by the door, she entered the room and found Greg sleeping restlessly while Nick tried to comfort him. Greg's fever spiked again and the doctor told Nick he had Greg scheduled for an ice bath in a couple of minutes. His fever was getting too high, thus resulting the hallucination. Actually, hallucination_s_; what made the doctor really arrange an ice bath was when Greg hallucinated again. This time Nick and Sara were around and Greg was staring at the wall, trying not to fall asleep and all of a sudden he shouted. He thought the room was on fire and that Nick was burning alive. They calmed him down, of course, and Nick convincing the nurse Greg didn't need to be sedated, but it was getting serious.

Nick sighed as he placed a hand on Greg's forehead, not caring if it was sweaty. He was the reason Greg was in here, so he'd do everything in his power to keep him comfortable. A few minutes later, the doctor stepped in the room and saw both Sara and Nick sitting by Greg's side, trying to help him sleep. He felt bad that he had to do this- to wake Greg up- but it'd be worse if Greg went into the ice bath without prior notice. The two looked up and knew it was time. Greg was gonna hate this. When the doctor moved to put a hand on Greg's shoulder, Nick frowned and stopped him.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm gonna have to wake him up, it's-"

"Why?"

"He's needs to know what's going on; if we put him in ice without telling him, he could go into shock. And freezing temperature and shock don't mix well."

"Let me do it then." Nick moved over to his friend and took his hand in his.

"Greg? Greggo, buddy. I need you to wake up, alright?"

Greg moaned, but didn't make to open his eyes.

"Greg, come on man…please."

"D-Don' feel g'd…hurts…tir'd," Greg said, his voice cracking.

It broke Nick's heart. "I know, buddy, I know. The doctor just wants to talk to you, okay? You can go back to sleep after, I promise."

Finally, Greg's eyes opened and he looked at Nick in confusion. "Wha's goin' on?"

"Mr. Sanders," the doctor spoke quietly. "We're gonna take you to an ice bath, that way we can get your temperature down, alright?"

"'Kay." And with that Greg drifted off again.

Nick sighed and moved back as the nurses got Greg ready. He followed them as the wheeled Greg down the hallway to the area where they had the ice bath set up. When they reached the doors, the doctor stopped Nick from continuing on with them.

"I'm sorry you can't go in there."

"What? You have to let me, I-"

"We'll bring him back when his temperature is at a safe level."

"Please… if he doesn't have anyone in there with him he'll freak out."

The doctor pursed his lips and sighed wearily. He was too tired to argue. "Fine."

Nick smiled in relief and followed the man through the doors. The real reason he wanted to be with Greg was because, he made this mess and he was gonna fix it up. He watched as, once again, Greg was stripped to his boxers and then carefully placed into the ice water up to his neck. Nick shivered himself when he saw this; it must've felt horrible.

~+CSI+~

He was so tired and felt like he'd been a hit by a car…no, actually a truck. Like the big rig toys he had when he was little. Those were harmless little plastic toys; trucks in real life hurt like a mother. And then he felt like he was burning in a 350 degree oven one moment and the next it felt like he was swimming in the Arctic Ocean. He gasped as his eyes flew open when his body met water. He was awake now.

"Easy Greg, it's okay."

That voice sounded familiar, but he was too cold to figure out who it was. He could feel himself shivering violently and wished to be out of wherever he was. He wanted to be under a heap of blankets; he wanted to be sleeping.

"C-C-C-Cold-d-d-d.

"I know Greggo, just ten more minutes and you'll be done."

Now he knew who it was. The familiar Texan drawl gave it away.

"N-N-N-Nick-k-k?" He shifted his eyes to the right and found Nick sitting next to him with a sympathetic looked on his face. Only then did he see that Nick's hand was wrapped around his arm. He must've already gone numb. Fuck, he was freezing!

"P-p-p-ple-ease…g-get m-me out of h-here."

"Soon, Greg." Nick hated to see Greg so distressed, but if it cooled the kid down then it had to be done.

"N-N-No…p-p-please get m-me out n-now!"

"I'm sorry, G," Nick whispered. "I'm so sorry."

~+CSI+~

Fifteen minutes later found Greg back in his room, laying on his side and shivering like crazy…still. Catherine had shown up and was now rubbing his arm continuously to try and warm him up, but it didn't really help. What bothered Nick, though, was that Greg was moaning for a blanket and whimpering that he was cold, but the bastard doctor said he couldn't have one.

"Why the hell can't he have a blanket? He's shivering like he's naked in Alaska!" Nick had shouted angrily.

"I'm sorry, but that's just his body's way of cooling down; it's fighting off the fever. If we warm him up, he could get worse."

Could it get any worse? Apparently it could, because the next day, Greg developed a worrying cough and the doctor took chest x-rays only to find out Greg caught pneumonia.

"This wouldn't have happened if you just gave him a goddam blanket!"

"Being cold has nothing to do with him catching the disease."

"I don't care, he was still freezing his ass off and now he's sick…worse than ever this time."

"Maybe if you didn't send him out into the lake without proper protection, than none of this would've happened period."

Nick squeezed his eyes shut as he replayed what the doctor had just said. Maybe he was just tired and he was imagining things.

"What did you say?"

"I said I apologize and I'll do everything I can to get him better. I promise; we just have to give it some time." Yep, what the doctor had said had been warped by his guilty conscience.

As the doctor left, Nick rolled his eyes and went back to join Grissom, who had stopped by today, in Greg's room. They both watched quietly as Greg slept in a medicine induced sleep. Nick sighed, bringing the covers over Greg's shoulder and ran a hand through the damp blonde hair.

"This isn't your fault you know," Grissom said quietly.

"No? Thanks for the attempt to cheer me up, but it is. It's my fault Greg's sick."

"How so?" Grissom quirked an eyebrow.

"You know that lake we went to last Wednesday? Well, Hodges found out the place was crawling with viruses. One happened to be Salmonella typhi, or-"

"Typhoid fever."

"Yeah."

"You didn't know. Greg didn't know. No one did. No one warned us, Nicky."

"But I could've taken precaution anyways. This could've been prevented."

"It could have…but I'm sure Greg wouldn't blame you anyways. He's not one to hold a grudge…especially on family."

"I hope so."

**TBC**

** Is our poor Greggo gonna get better? Stay tuned to find out! REVIEWS!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Greg coughed violently and he curled up into a tighter ball on his side. He was getting worse; he knew it. A couple nights ago his stomach, along with his back, started having these sharp pains and it caused him to vomit what he'd eaten- which was very little. Since then, every now and then he would start to feel nauseous and that was usually followed with knives in his stomach plus puking. Boy was he lucky. The shivering was getting bad, too, but the good thing was the doctor had finally given him a blanket…though it wasn't helping a damn bit. Sometimes between the moments where his mind would tune in and out, he would hear Nick talking to him, trying to comfort him; it'd help, but most of the time it didn't. He was grateful to have the man trying to make him feel better, but he was too far in sickness to actually acknowledge most of it. Another spasm of extreme pain crashed through him as he coughed and he whimpered, a couple tears making their way down his face. _Oh god, kill me now._

~+CSI+~

Dr. Mike looked at his patient's, Greg Sanders, file. The kid was young yet his health was deteriorating fast. No matter what antibiotic they gave him, either something would get worse or nothing would change. It was stressful and he though he didn't want Greg to die, but he didn't know what else to do.

He had ordered some more tests and he was now waiting anxiously for the results. Dr. Mike ran a hand through his hair and down his face wearily. This was the first typhoid disease he's had since '91 and the last person ended up dead; he did not want that happening to Greg Sanders. Taking a deep breath, he flipped through the pages to see if he missed something though he'd already read it ten times. All of a sudden, there was a soft knock on his door and he prayed it was what he was waiting for.

"Enter."

"Dr. Mike? I have Gregory Sanders' test results."

"Thank you, Emily."

He took the file and quickly read through the paragraphs. What he saw made his heart drop to the floor. He glanced up at the nurse in shock and she returned the look with sorrow in her eyes.

Dr. Mike closed his eyes in dejection as he stood up, though not completely looking forward to facing Greg's friends.

"God, this kid can't catch a break can he?" He sighed as he passed Emily and walked towards Greg's room. He was really dreading this.

~+CSI+~

Nick felt a knife stab him in the heart every time he heard Greg gasp or whimper in pain. It just reminded him how he was to blame of all this. He would say over and over again 'I'm so sorry Greg, I'm so sorry,' but he knew it wasn't helping either of them feel better. Greg's condition wasn't changing or improving a bit and he or the doctor knew why…

A knock at the door startled him and he turned to see who it was.

…until now.

The face of Greg's doctor was none other than the face of disappointment and bad news. When he gestured Nick to the hallway, he glanced at Greg once more before getting up to follow the older man.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"We got Greg's test results back and I'm afraid they aren't good."

"Son of bitch," Nick muttered, wiping a hand down his face. "What is it now?"

"In many typhoid cases such as this there are complications like pneumonia and meningitis. Greg unfortunately got the pneumonia as well as pancreatitis. It's the inflammation of the pancreas and it's causing a severe descent in Greg's health, mostly, because he was already very sick."

Nick swallowed. "What- what are you gonna do? You're gonna fix it right?"

"We're going to do all that we can to get Greg through this and back on track, but as of right now, it's not looking too good."

"Damn." Nick glanced at through the doorway at Greg who was releasing and clenching the sheets in his fists as pain radiated through his weak body. He said it a million times already and he'd say it a million times more: _What have I done?_

~+CSI+~

The next day Greg's condition was getting to the point where he was too weak to move or make a sound. The whole team was there now, Grissom and Sara getting coffee while Catherine and Nick sat with Greg. Nick was dozing off in the chair next to Greg's head but not daring to remove his hand from under Greg's; he was afraid one little movement would break the kid. Greg was sleeping also- well trying to sleep; the pain meds were strong, but they always seemed to wear off quickly, like they wanted him in agonizing pain. But he knew it wouldn't be longer; he could feel himself fading and as much as he didn't want to die, he just wanted to be away from the pain. So if dying made that happen, then so be it. He had to say goodbye, he wasn't gonna do that to his friends- not saying goodbye. Warrick never had the chance to do that so he was going to make sure he did.

He slowly crawled out of unconscious, still hearing the familiar beeping sounds next to his head and a heavy, yet soft, weight on his hand. Opening his sore eyes, he looked around until his eyes landed on Nick who was sitting next to him. This was going to hurt.

"Nick," he said in the lowest of the lowest voices.

The man must've had some type of super hearing, because Nick's eyes shot open and he moved closer to his friend.

"Catherine. Catherine he's awake," Nick whispered. He faced Greg and smiled weakly. "Hey buddy, how're you feeling?"

Greg's eyes started drooping, whether it was from being tired or because it was his time, Greg didn't know. He had to stay awake…just for a few minutes.

"B-Been better."

"Don't worry, you'll be okay. The doctors will get you better again."

"No…they won't…too late."

"What are you talking about? Stop talking like that Greg."

"Nick," Catherine whispered. She was just gonna go calm down the man when she noticed Greg's monitor. His heart was slowing down.

"H-had to say…goodbye. Warrick n-never got…to."

"Greg you are not gonna die, you hear me? You're gonna be okay, just believe me."

"S-So stubborn," Greg smiled slightly.

Nick chuckled but it died down quickly. He was getting scared; why was Greg talking like this? Was it because he wasn't thinking straight or was he really…_no Nick, he's not gonna die; he'll make it through this._ He was so caught up in his thoughts he didn't even notice Catherine getting up and heading for the door.

"I'm s-sorry, Nick," Greg whispered, his voice fading and his eyes closing. "I'm s-so sorry." With that Greg's eyes closed and all Nick could hear was the dreadful tone of a flat-line. Greg's hand went limp in his and his own heart almost stopped as well.

"Nononono, Greg! G, come on don't do this to us, don't do this to me. You can't leave us, please don't leave us, Greggo!" Nick shouted as he roughly shook Greg's shoulders and wincing when his warm hands met ice cold skin. "Greg, dammit wake the hell up!"

Suddenly, he was pulled back by a pair of arms and the next thing he knew a flood of nurses were standing around Greg with paddles, already charging them up. _When had that happened?_

"Charge to 200…clear?"

"Clear!"

_Thump._

Nick couldn't breathe; his chest was tightening and black spots were appearing in his vision.

"Nothing. Try 300."

"Charging to 300…clear?"

"Clear!"

"Still no response."

It was too much for him to handle, plus the stress and exhaustion, it was the recipe for a blackout. Greg was dead; he killed his best friend. Before he knew it, Nick could feel the sensation of falling, the blackness overcoming him before hitting the ground.

~+CSI+~

When he woke up, his head was pounding. The surface he was on felt soft, yet still not comfy and he realized he was on a hospital bed. How long was he out? Greg probably did- oh no, Greg. But before he could see, sound was the first thing that came to him. Crying. That's all he heard. Crying; and that meant nothing good.

Nick stood up and found Sara, Grissom and Catherine gathered around a bed…Greg's bed and the doctor was just pulling the sheet over sandy blonde hair. _No this can't be happening! No, Greg!_ He pushed past the others and pulled the sheets back. He nearly puked when he saw Greg…he looked like one of their corpses down in autopsy…maybe, because he _was_ a corpse. His face was blue and purple and his skin was ice cold; his eyes were sunken in causing dark circles around his closed eyes.

"No please Greg. Please don't do this, man!"

"Nick how could you do this?"

The Texan turned and frowned at the team. Tears were still present on their face except they looked angry…accusing.

"What?"

"Grissom told us what you did," Sara whispered. "You forced Greg into that lake without any protection. He's dead, because of you; you killed him, Nick."

"No…I didn't…I didn't mean to. God, I'm sorry."

Nick turned back to Greg. "I'm so sorry."

~+CSI+~

A week went by and the news of Greg's death hit hard, especially at the crime lab; and when they knew the reason, Nick was the most hated person in there. No one would talk to him, unless it was work related, and when he managed to make eye contact with anyone they would only glare. 'Nick Stokes killed Greg Sanders' was all he heard when he passed other CSI's and lab techs. And they were right; sure, he didn't kill Greg with his bare hands so to speak, but he made Greg go out into that infected lake; he made him get sick.

And then there was the funeral. It was awkward and unpleasant. Nick sat alone, away from everyone else since he knew they didn't want to be near him. He could hear Greg's mother crying and it made him feel more depressed and sick. After they all watched Greg's casket be buried, his mother came up to him with fire in her eyes.

"What did my Greg ever do to you, Mr. Stokes? What did he ever do to make you kill him?"

She didn't give him the chance to respond as she walked away, Sara wrapping her arm around the woman's waist. Nick was speechless and when everyone was gone, he dropped to his knees next to Greg's grave. His bottom lip trembled and tears trickled down his cheeks. Greg was dead and he wasn't coming back. Greg was dead and it was his fault.

"Greggo," he choked.

Just as he was about to touch Greg's grave, a pale, dirty hand shot up and grabbed his wrist.

"No!"

~~8~~

"Nick! Nick, calm down, you're okay!"

Nick's eyes snapped open and he realized that what he just witnessed was a giant nightmare. He found himself in a hospital bed and he could feel small hands clutching his shoulders.

"Sara? W-What happened?"

"You passed out, Nick. Are you okay?"

"Yes I'm…how long was I out?" Nick asked, sitting up and running a hand through his hair.

"Thirty minutes."

_Wow, it felt a lot longer than that. _Then something clicked. Greg.

"Greg…what happened to him?"

"He's…" Sara began nervously.

"He's not…" Nick was dreading the next word.

"No, he's not dead, but…he's really sick," Sara said, her voice cracking in emotion. She looked up over Nick's head and he followed her gaze to the second occupant of the room.

"Oh my god."

The sight he saw was sickening. "Oh no."

Nick tried to get up but Sara immediately stopped him. "Nick, the doctor said you need to lie down; you're sleep deprived and near dehydration."

"I don't care," Nick mumbled, pushing past the woman and going to his friend's side. He reached to touch Greg's arm, but he retracted when he was scared he'd hurt the fragile kid.

Greg was motionless. A tube ran from his mouth and hooked up to an intimidating ventilator. His skin was as pale as a ghost, minus the dark circles around his eyes, and ice cold. Maybe that was because of the ice packs that were on, nearly, every part of his body, but the Texan doubted that. Nick choked on his breath as he shakily grabbed Greg's limp hand and gripped it tightly hoping to make it warm.

"Oh god."

He looked just like he had in Nick's nightmare except, thankfully, he was alive. That was a plus- he was alive.

~+CSI+~

From then on, Nick didn't leave Greg's side. Not to eat, not to sleep and rarely did he ever go to the bathroom. His hair was disheveled, his face was pale and unshaven and his clothes were wrinkled as well as dirty. The team was worried Nick was going to get himself sick and they insisted on him taking a break and going home to freshen up. But his reply would always be: "I'm not leaving Greg's side, this is my fault and I'm staying here until he gets better." It touched, yet saddened them that it had come this far. A couple times Grissom had requested Nick be sedated, and they had managed to…just when Nick woke up he was pissed they had done that- pissed they had taken him away from Greg.

It was the Monday since Greg had gone into a light coma and Nick was tiredly watching Greg breathe- with the help of the machine- and he was trying so hard not to fall asleep. Greg's hand was still enveloped in his and no matter how sweaty it'd get, he never removed it. And it was a good thing he didn't, because it was almost seven at night and everything that happened flashed through Nick's mind like a movie…it happened almost everyday. He rubbed his red-rimmed eyes since there were no more tears left and sighed.

"I'm so sorry G, please wake up. I'm sorry."

And then he felt it; the very, very weak grip around his own hand. _Greg?_

Nick smiled and squeeze back. _Please let this be what I think it is; please let Greg wake up._

**TBC**

**Stay tuned for chapter five! Maybe two more chapters after that :) REVIEWS! P.S All mistakes are mine!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

He was hearing voices…or was that just his imagination? Nothing made sense to him anymore. But the voices, they sounded so familiar and he wanted to see faces; he wanted to wake up. No matter how hard he tried, though, it wasn't happening anytime soon. He was stuck in his own body; for how long, he did not know.

"I'm so sorry G, please wake up. I'm sorry."

Wait. Why did he recognize that voice? It sounded almost accented…and sad. He didn't want the person to feel sad; he had to comfort them. It'd take a lot of his energy and he knew it'd probably make him black out again, but whoever was out there needed to feel…well, not guilty. Wherever he was it was probably on him anyways. Faintly, since his limbs felt so disconnected from his body, he could feel his hand curl around a rough, yet, soft warm object- a hand. A few seconds later he felt the hand squeeze back and he knew things were going to be okay- for him and the person out there…hopefully. He wanted to see who it was so badly, but his energy was gone and in a matter of seconds he lost the battle with unconsciousness.

~+CSI+~

"Cath, Sara, Gris, he heard me."

The three CSI's glanced at each other worriedly before looking back at their friend. Nick was starting to lose it. Greg was in a coma and the doctor said it'd be at least a couple weeks before he showed any signs of waking up.

"What are you talking about, Nicky?" Grissom questioned.

"His hand…he squeezed my hand."

"Nick, Dr. Mike said Greg wouldn't be coming out of his coma for a while. It was probably just a muscle spasm," Sara said softly.

The excitement in Nick's eyes disappeared. "What are you saying? That I was just imagining it? Well, I wasn't, I swear; I was talking to him and his hand moved. You've gotta believe me."

"Nick, you're tired," Catherine said, placing a hand on Nick's shoulder. "When you're tired you start imagining things you want."

"No! I-I know what I felt! Why is that so hard to believe?!" Nick shouted shooting up from his chair and, for the first time in days, letting go of Greg's hand. His colleague's faces were full of doubt, worry, fear and pity. Why didn't they believe that Greg's hand moved? It was real; he didn't imagine it, right? He wasn't losing it, right?

"Nick you need to rest, you aren't thinking straight," Catherine said.

"I'm not imagining it, I-" Nick wiped a hand down his face, stubble scratching his palm. "I need some air." As he left, he- probably more than the team- was shocked at his words, because this was the first time he left Greg for a long time.

_Not thinking straight, imagining things, lying, what was wrong with them? Why did they think he was going crazy? He wasn't going crazy, he was perfectly fine._

He stalked out of the building and hopped into the Denali. For a moment he didn't make a move besides stare into space and breathe erratically. The silence was unbearable and immediately he slammed his fists on the steering wheel angrily. Without thinking, he started the engine and peeled out of the parking lot.

"Nick. Nick, don't do this!"

The Texan glanced to his right briefly, catching a familiar afro.

"Do what 'Rick?"

"You know exactly what, man. _Drive;_ you're endangering yourself and others. Pull over."

Nick clenched his jaw and pressed harder on the gas.

"Nick!"

"You were right, Warrick. Everything is my fault! Greg nearly died, because of my goddamn stupidity…which is why I don't deserve to live."

"What?! Nick, pull the hell over right now! You have no idea how ridiculous you sound!"

"What are you gonna do, huh? You're dead."

"Yeah, but Greg's not; how's he gonna feel when he wakes up and hears that you died, that you killed yourself? Man, the only reason he's fighting is, because of you. He doesn't want to let you down."

"Greg could never let me down," mumbled Nick, disregarding the horns and hollers directed at him as he drove recklessly around town.

"Then _you_ don't let _him_ down. If you kill yourself right now, he'll give up; he'll know you aren't there anymore."

"He's got the rest of the team."

"God, has it really come this far?"

"Greg's gonna hate me when he hears the reason why he was in the hospital; I'm the reason Greg died!"

"He's not, Nicky. Greg doesn't hold grudges, remember? Remember what he always said? 'Forgive and forget man, don't worry about it.' He loves you, man, you're his big brother and if you leave, you'll take that away from him. You _will_ kill him!"

Nick swallowed and thought for a moment, easing his foot off the pedal.

"That's it, take it easy. Things will change; Greg will be okay, I promise."

Nick looked at Warrick for a second and sighed. "Al-" but before he could get out anything else, he was unexpectedly sideswiped by a large pickup truck that hit the passenger side. If Warrick were actually there, there'd be a possibility he wouldn't have made it.

The Denali was pushed to the left, metal crunching, tires screeching, glass cracking and sparks flying. Nick smashed the side of his head on the window and stars appeared in front of his eyes. By the time everything went still, the car was on its side. Nick's eyes were closed and he was laying awkwardly on his shoulder and cheek. Blood trickled from his temple, down his forehead and onto the glass covered pavement.

Slowly, his eyes blinked open and he could hear muffled sounds of screams, horns and sirens.

"Ugh…Warrick?" And then his brain started processing information again. Warrick was never there. His head was pounding furiously and his arm felt strangely detached.

Suddenly a voice sounded faintly from nowhere and Nick looked to his right to see and man looking down at him through the smashed window.

"Sir…an you…ear…e?"

"Wha'?"

"Are…ou…lright?"

"…" Nick squeezed his eyes shut to try and focus on what was happening.

"'On't…worr…sir…elps…n….way."

Before Nick could do anything else, he let out a breath and fell unconscious. Just hopefully help would get there fast. Warrick was right…again- he couldn't let Greg down; he wouldn't.

~+CSI+~

**4 Days Later**

Nick felt himself returning to the world of living…which meant now he could feel the pounding pain behind his eyes.

"Ugh."

"Nick? Nick, are you awake?"

Nick groaned again and forced his eyelids to lift. When they did, everything he saw was slightly out of focus.

"Nicky?"

"Ca-Catherine?" Nick blinked again and pressed his eyes with his fingers. "What's going on?"

"You got in a car accident, Hun; you've been out for nearly a week."

"A we- damn."

"We got a call from Brass saying that you flipped your car and that you were on the way here. You could've gotten killed and you're lucky it was only a concussion, dislocated shoulder and a few cracked ribs. What were you thinking?"

"I was pissed; you guys didn't believe that Greg had moved and…I don't know, I guess I really was losing it."

"Actually, we have to apologize to you on that one; while you were out, Greg started breathing on his own again…he's getting better. The doctor doesn't know how or why, but he's getting better."

"What? Well, can I see him?"

"I don't think you should be moving around right now, technically it's the doctor's orders."

"Cath, I have to see him…please."

The blonde sighed and pursed her lips. "Alright, but you'll have to ride in a wheelchair."

"What?"

Catherine shrugged with a smirk on her face. "You wanna see Greg or not?"

"Fine," Nick grumbled.

By the time they reached Greg's room, Nick was ready to leap out of the chair, anxious to see his little brother. The door was slightly ajar and the lights were dimmed; Catherine knocked on the door and someone said 'come in.' Nick frowned; it was a female voice, but it didn't sound like Sara or anyone else he knew. So who was with Greg? When he was wheeled into the room, he found that a sandy blonde woman, that didn't look a day over thirty, was sitting next to Greg, running her fingers through his curls.

"Mrs. Sanders, meet Nick Stokes; he's Greg's best friend."

"Oh, you're Nick; Gregory has told me a lot about you. You seem like the brother he never had and the second son I've always wanted."

Nick blushed and smiled lopsidedly. "How's he doing?"

"Unfortunately, he's still in his coma, but the doctor is optimistic that he'll wake up within a couple of days. His fever is slowly going down and, thank god, the rash is fading away, too. It's a miracle; just four days ago he almost had to be put in an ice bath again and now he's breathing on his own. I don't know what happened, but whatever it was, I'm grateful for it. I thought I was going to lose my Greg forever."

_I thought so, too, Mrs. Sanders; I thought I was going to lose my little brother._

Nick bit his lip and looked down at his hands. "Do you…do you think I could sit with him…I mean, if it's alright with you."

Mrs. Sanders smiled warmly and shook her head. "I don't mind at all; I've been meaning to stretch and grab some coffee anyways." Before she stood up, she kissed Greg's forehead, smiled sadly and then made her way to the door. "It was nice to finally meet you, Mr. Stokes."

"You as well and just call me Nick."

Mrs. Sanders nodded and began to leave.

"I'll come with you, Mrs. Sanders; I've needed to get something to wake me up for a while now," Catherine said.

"Oh, tell me about it. I don't want to sleep; not until I know my son is alright. I don't think I've slept peacefully in…" Mrs. Sanders' voice faded away as she and Catherine walked further from the room. And now he was alone with Greg. Sighing he wheeled over next to Greg's side and gave him a once over. Surprisingly he was looking a lot better. Wow, he missed out on a lot while he was in his little coma. Though his skin looked a little yellow, Greg's face was no longer deathly pale. A cannula snaked under his nose and behind his ears, giving him the oxygen he needed. His chest was rising and falling slowly and Nick closed his eyes, letting out a heavy sigh. Greg was going to be okay…now if he just woke up.

~+CSI+~

"Hey bud, looks like you're doing better…but you're killing me. You gotta wake up; it's so boring without you." Nick sighed as he placed a hand on top of Greg's and rubbed it with his thumb. "And I've really missed you, man; nearly a month is too long."

There was no surprise when Greg didn't budge. Like Mrs. Sanders and the doctor said, it could be a couple days before the kid woke up. All he could do was watch, comforting himself and, hopefully, Greg. And he guessed he had a while before Greg's mom came back, so he decided to occupy himself with talking. He knew Greg could hear him and maybe he'd walk to tell Nick to stop rambling…the thing that Greg did all the time.

"It's your turn to tell me to shut up, buddy. Just say when."

So for the next two hours Nick talked, almost to the point where he couldn't speak anymore. He updated Greg on what had been going on and that they had finished the case- well not Nick so much, because he'd been in the hospital for who knows how long. He talked about all the hot nurses in the hospital, especially the one who rubbed cream on Greg's chest all those days ago.

"Once you wake up, you should get her number, Greggo. I think once or twice I overheard her telling another nurse how adorable you were. I think she's got the wrong guy, though, because we both know I'm way better looking than you are," Nick laughed, but his smile faltered. The joking wasn't nearly as fun as it was when Greg was actually conscious. Nick wiped a hand down his face and sighed; watching Greg sleep was starting to make him tired. But he didn't want to fall asleep; he wanted to be awake for when the kid decided to open his eyes. But in a matter of minutes, Nick lost his battle with sleep, his eyes closing slowly and his head lowering onto the bed next to Greg's arm.

Not even ten minutes later he felt something. Someone was tapping on his hand lightly. At first he thought it was a nurse and was getting irritated; why couldn't they just let him sleep? But then he heard a soft intake of a breath and he knew something was happening with Greg. Nick opened his eyes, his head shooting up and looking at his hand. His heart beat painfully against his chest as he saw with his very own two eyes, Greg's hand weakly trying to get Nick's attention. Well he got it. His head sluggishly rolled on the pillow towards Nick and the Texan held his breath, hoping that Greg Sanders was finally waking up from his coma.

"Greg?" Nick said hesitantly. "Greg, can you hear me?"

A groan. That's what elicited from Greg's parted lips; and that's all Nick needed to know that his little brother knew he wasn't alone, that he had someone by his side when he woke up.

"That's it bud, I'm right here; just open your eyes." Nick gently squeezed Greg's hand in encouragement. _Come on, Greggo please wake up…please._

As if his wishes were answered, Greg's eyes slowly flickered open, revealing glassy brown eyes. Nick was still worried about Greg's fever, though; yes it was only at 100.2, but that could climb at any given moment. Greg looked up at the ceiling for a moment before sliding his gaze to Nick, locking eyes with the older man. Greg smacked his lips in order to get his dry mouth to speak.

"N-Nick?" Greg voice was extremely hoarse and immediately after her spoke, he erupted into a coughing fit.

"Easy, buddy, easy," Nick said soothingly as he grabbed a cup of water and settled it on Greg's bottom lip, aiding him with drinking cold the liquid.

When the water was halfway gone, Nick pulled it away and Greg lay back on the pillows.

"Thanks," he slurred, closing his eyes.

_Poor kid, he's beat._ "No problem, Greggo. Why don't you go back to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up…and so will your mom."

"My m-mom? She probably f-freaked, right?"

Nick smiled sadly. "I'll tell you all about it later, man. Just get some rest."

Greg nodded slowly and almost instantly, his head fell limp to one side, soft snores filling the quiet room. Nick grinned and ran a hand through Greg's hair. Things were starting to look up…just hopefully Greg would forgive him when he found out the whole reason he was stuck in this hospital.

**TBC**

**7 More days! SO excited! And 7 more days til NCIS (for those of u who watch it!) Anyways, one or two more chapters left, so stay tuned. REVIEWS! Oh, and I apologize if this is a bit OOC.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**I forgot to put this in my last chapter: Mrs. Sanders' name is Emma, so I'll be saying Emma from time to time. :)**

"You look like shit."

"Me? Have you looked in the mirror lately?" Nick chuckled.

"No, but I bet I look dashing," Greg said in a horrible British accent before breaking out into a small cough. His lungs were permanently damaged, as said by the doctor, and for at least a month Greg would be out of breath easily and coughing…a lot.

"Hey, hey, take it easy man. You don't want to hurt yourself."

Greg nodded as he took a deep breath and slumped back into his pillows, exhausted. He hated feeling that way; he wanted to leave this place and go back to work. But the doctor wouldn't let him, _Nick_ wouldn't let him and it made him frustrated. He had to lay prison to the uncomfortable bed. And he knew he'd be physically drained when his mom showed up. She, apparently, had showed up a few minutes after he'd fallen asleep and he was glad. He loved his mother to death, but sometimes she would not stop fussing over him. He opened his eyes and looked up at the ceiling tiredly. He wasn't feeling good for some reason, but he didn't want to alert Nick with his little problems. He looked like he'd been through enough already. God, he was sick of this place; he just wanted to go home and sleep in a comfortable bed with edible food. And even though he'd been awake for not even half a day, he wanted to get out of this hellhole. He never liked hospitals, they made him feel uneasy…trapped…even if he wasn't the patient.

"Hey Greggo, you okay?"

"Huh?" Greg said, breaking out of his thoughts.

"You kinda spaced out on me there."

"Oh…sorry."

Nick frowned and leaned closer to his friend. He looked a bit pale and when Nick had been talking to him, Greg just went quiet while a glazed look passed over his brown eyes.

"You feelin' okay, man?" Nick placed a hand on Greg's forehead and cursed inwardly. _Nononono, this can't be happening; he can't be getting a fever again, not when he was just getting better._ Greg weakly batted Nick's hand away and rolled his head towards the window.

"Nick stop…I'm fine," he whispered…but he wasn't. He knew something was wrong, but he couldn't tell what. His head was pounding, his stomach was doing flips and he had the sudden urge to vomit. Worst of all, his chest felt funny; like an elephant was sitting on him.

"I'm…get…doctor." Nick's words faded in and out, but it was clear to what he said.

"N-No…no d-doctor. I'm f-fine!"

But apparently Nick didn't listen, because the next thing he knew, a light was shone into his eyes, making his headache worse than it already was, and the nausea grow.

"Something…wrong…medication…side effects…need…change."

Nick frowned as he watched Dr. Mike look at Greg, who was groaning and rolling his head restlessly on the pillow. A thin layer of sweat coated his face and he looked like he was about to puke.

"Greg…Greggo, stay with me man. You're gonna be alright kiddo, just stay awake."

Almost immediately after he said that, Greg's oxygen levels dropped drastically and his head fell limp to one side.

"I need an intubation in here!" Dr. Mike shouted as he laid Greg flat on the bed and shining a flashlight in his mouth.

"Throat is inflamed and swollen," he said to incoming nurses. "Are we ready?"

"Yes doctor."

As all this happened, Nick was shoved out of the room with terror on his face. Greg needed a breathing tube…again!

"What's going on?! What's wrong with my son?!" He heard someone scream…Greg's mom.

"Miss, your son's going to be alright, I promise," said a nurse. "The medication that he's on is causing some problems."

Emma sobbed as she was held back, forced to watch, behind the windows, her only son go through more pain and suffering. Nick stood closer to her letting the woman cling onto his arm tightly as they both watched the chaos inside the room.

"What the hell happened?" Catherine breathed as she ran up to them. Greg's mom could run, but maybe that was because her son was involved.

"Greg, he…he stopped breathing. The medication he's on is causing side effects," Nick said quietly.

"Damn."

After a few minutes, the nurses started leaving the room and Dr. Mike emerged from the room with a weary look on his aging face.

"Well? What happened to my baby boy? Is he going to be okay?" Emma cried.

"Greg's gonna be fine. What happened is normal, I just didn't expect it to be that bad."

"How the hell is _that_ normal?" Nick fumed.

"There were possible risks- more so side effects- with the drug, called ciprofloxacin, we had Greg on. As of right now, we are putting him on something different; however, they aren't as strong."

"W-What does that mean?" Nick said, fear growing at the pit of his stomach.

"It means the meds he's on currently aren't going to help him as much as the last. He'll be sick for a while, possibly a week, before he starts healing properly. His body still hasn't quite gotten to the stage of healing on its own. It's nothing to be alarmed about, I assure you, but in order to keep his immune system strong, I ask that you put on scrubs and sterilize yourself before going in to sit with him."

"What about the tube?" Catherine asked.

"That is a little less serious. In a few hours or so, the throat inflammation and swelling should go down and he'll be able to start breathing on his own again."

Nick felt more relieved when he heard this. He was glad the tube wasn't for a long period of time; he didn't know if he'd be able to see Greg like that again.

"So he'll be okay?" Emma whispered.

"He'll be okay, ma'am," Dr. Mike smiled reassuringly.

"Can I sit with him now?"

"Absolutely. If you'll just follow me, we can get you ready to go in."

Emma nodded before turning to Nick.

"Umm, if you don't mind, I'd like to be with him for a while…alone. No offense and I know your heart is in the right place, it's just that I haven't seen him that much since he left for Vegas. Not even after the beating- which is still a horrible shock to me- and I regret that."

Nick nodded, placing a hand on the woman's shoulder comfortingly. "Go ahead, he's your son. I can wait."

"Just let us know if you need anything or if his condition changes."

"Of course." With that, Emma smiled and left with Dr. Mike.

Soon after, Nick let out a shuddering breath and wiped hand down his face. "God."

"He'll be alright Nicky," Catherine whispered, rubbing circles on the man's back.

"He better." He was not gonna lose his best friend. Never again.

"Nicky, why don't you go home, okay? You need to rest, Hun…especially after your accident. You're gonna run yourself to the ground if you keep going like this."

"I'm fine, Cath."

"When's the last time you slept?"

"…"

"Exactly, so I want you to go home, sleep, eat, freshen up, whatever you need to do, but there's nothing that you can do here."

"But Catherine-"

"No buts. I'll have officers assigned to make sure you stay there if you don't go right now…Nick I'm worried about you. Please, go take care of yourself."

Nick huffed. "Fine. Are you staying here?"

"No I'm going home, too. There's no point in staying here. Greg's got his mom, he's okay and I'm sure Greg wouldn't want us to be like this."

"You're right, he wouldn't. He'd care more about us than himself," Nick chuckled. Greg always had a big heart and he _never_ put himself before others. He could be dying and he'd ask if they or another victim was okay.

"Come on," Catherine said, leading Nick to the exit. "I'll drive you home."

~+CSI+~

Emma stepped into her son's room quietly and slowly, now in clothed in scrubs and the strong smell of sterilizer emanating from her hands. She was afraid that any sudden movements would injure her precious boy even more. This was the first time she'd see a tube down her Greg's throat and it made her sick. Catherine had told her about the other time Greg needed the tube and just hearing about it was horrible. She moved closer and noticed the thin layer of sweat coating his peaceful, yet, pale face.

"Oh, Greggy. Why did this have to happen to you?"

Emma sat down and carefully slid her hand underneath her son's. She sniffed, tightening her grip around his hand and laid her head on his bobbing chest. She had to hear his heart; he didn't look to be alive and she had to know his precious heart was beating.

"Keep fighting sweetie," she whispered. "You'll get through this; I promise."

~+CSI+~

Nick threw his stuff on the floor of his apartment, wiping a weary hand down his face. It'd been forever since he stepped foot in his own place and he was surprised things hadn't started collecting dust yet. Sighing heavily, he dropped onto the couch and rubbed his temples. He really needed a drink. That would take all the pain away. Getting back up, he stumbled to the kitchen and rummaged through the bottom cupboard for his spare bottle of vodka.

"Come on, come on where is it?" He muttered. He needed to block out the hurt, the guilt, the pain. He needed to drink until he passed out…not to sleep…just straight out fall unconscious. He didn't deserve to sleep.

"Finally." He snatched the bottle, opened it and chugged the whole thing down in seconds. The liquid burned his throat, but he didn't care…he deserved it. Slamming the empty bottle down on the counter, he didn't feel any different than before he drank. He needed more. Opening his fridge, he pulled out the case of beer and began downing each bottle.

Ten minutes later found him on the floor, huddled in a corner, crying his eyes out. All he could think about was Greg and how the kid- and now his mother- still didn't know the whole story about how Greg got put in the hospital in the first place. And when they found out, he was going to lose his best friend. Greg was going to hate him. His mother was going to file suit against him. He should've been the one to go into the lake and get sick. He should be dead. He heard someone calling his name, but it was probably just his imagination. _It's probably Warrick again._

"Oh, Greggo. I'm so sorry." The last thought he had before he fell into oblivion was the he was gonna have a hellova hangover tomorrow.

~+CSI+~

Sara tossed and turned in her bed. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. She just got home from the hospital, because Catherine had told them all to leave since Greg's mom wanted to have some time alone with her son. Sara looked at her clock for the hundredth time and sighed. It was only one in the morning and she had been home for at least two hours. Why couldn't she sleep? Squeezing her eyes closed, she tried to drift off, but it wasn't working.

"Fuck," she mumbled as she blinked her eyes open once more.

"I never knew you had such colorful vocabulary."

Sara gasped and sat up in her bed. She grabbed her sig from underneath her pillow and flicked on the lamp. Who she saw was totally unexpected; totally not real. This couldn't be happening, could it?

"Warrick? What the hell? Am I dreaming?"

"Maybe…maybe not," he smirked.

"What- what's going on?"

"Nick's in trouble."

"What?"

"You have to go now, he's at his apartment and if you don't go now, I don't know what'll happen."

"What do you mean he's in trouble? Is he hurt?" Sara said, stumbling out of her bed.

But Warrick never answered. He was gone, just like that. She must be losing her mind. But now the feeling in her gut was confirmed. Nick was in trouble and she had to go see what he did to himself this time.

~+CSI+~

"Nick? Nick, are you in there?" Sara said, knocking on the door to Nick's apartment. "Nick!" Yep, something was definitely wrong. After Warrick had died, Nick had been a bit…depressed; shut everyone out and drank…a lot. And then just when they thought he'd kill himself, Greg decided to do something about it. Nick almost beat the kid up, but eventually Greg managed to get through to the guy. From then on, Nick continuously apologized for the bruised jaw, because he knew how delicate the kid had been since the beating. He felt so bad that he probably brought back horrible memories for the young CSI, but Greg just brushed it off as nothing, saying that it was worth it. He'd gotten his brother back. That's why she loved Greg so much; he always knew what to say…especially to Nick. She, on the other hand, did not.

There was no reason to believe Nick wasn't home, because his light had been on. So why wasn't he answering the door? Had he done something stupid? Sara became more nervous and she quickly pulled out the spare key that Nick gave her- and the rest of the team- and unlocked his door.

"Nick?" And then the unmistakable stench of alcohol intruded her senses. "Dammit, Nick." Turning the corner only made things worse; the sight before her was heartbreaking. Nick was crying and apologizing over and over to Greg, though he wasn't even there. And then in a split second, Nick's body slumped against the wall, hopefully, unconscious. She reached out a trembling finger and placed it underneath his jaw to feel for a pulse. Closing her eyes, Sara breathed in relief when she felt the rapid beating on her fingertip.

"What the hell were you thinking, Nick?"

And Sara didn't know how she did it, but she managed to get Nick's limp body to the couch. She was exhausted but at least he was comfortable. She was gonna rip him a new one when he came to.

~+CSI+~

He could feel consciousness coming back to him, but it wasn't something he wanted. His head hurt like a bitch and any minute now he was gonna puke all the contents of his stomach onto the carpet.

"Get up."

Who the hell was that? And, man, did they sound pissed.

"Huh?"

"Wake up, Nick."

The Texan blinked his eyes open, only to shut them quickly when a bright light protruded his senses.

"Ugh," he groaned and placed his arm over his eyes to block it out before he became more nauseous than he already was.

"Nick!"

"Wha'?"

"Wake up, we need to talk."

Nick slid his eyes open carefully and found himself starin blurry form of Sara Sidle. _Great._

"Sara, what the hell are you doing here?"

Sara huffed and ignored his question. "What the hell is this?" She seethed, holding up a few beer bottles. "You promised that you wouldn't do this anymore. You promised _Greg_ you wouldn't do this anymore."

Nick sat up, holding his head in pain as the headache grew. Hangovers sucked. What did he do? Why was Sara there?

"What are you talkin' about?"

"I'm talking about you drinking yourself to death! Why would you do that? We already lost Warrick, dangerously close to losing Greg, and now this? You could kill yourself. Is that what you were going for?!"

"N-no…I-"

"What if you died!? How would Greg feel? Especially after we almost lost you in the crash and you're lucky he didn't know about that. But if you cared to know, when you had been buried alive, Greg stopped at nothing to save you. He nearly ran himself to the ground…he yelled at Catherine…he _cried!_

Wow…Greg never told him that. God, what was he doing? Greg needed him the most right now, and he was drinking himself to oblivion. He was so selfish. He could feel his body trembling with tears and he put his face in his hands.

"Oh god, Sara I'm so sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. I…I just feel so guilty about everything. I made him…it's my fault."

Sara's features softened and she sat down next to her friend, placing a hand on his shaking back.

"What are you talking about Nick? You made who do what?"

"Greg…I made him go into that lake…I made him get sick and now…I just don't know anymore."

Sara sighed heavily and wiped a hand down her face. "Nick…you can't blame yourself; Greg wouldn't want you to blame yourself."

"But it's my fault. Maybe if I would've gone into the lake instead of him then-"

"You'd be in the hospital."

"It's better than G being there. Did you know he hates hospitals? Ever since the beating he was terrified of them, and now being there for nearly a month must be horrible for him…even if he won't admit it."

"Greg's brave Nick."

"I know he is, but…still. He shouldn't be alone."

"He's not…he's got his-"

"Mom, I know…but I'd like him to know that I'm here for him. That I'm sorry."

Sara pursed her lips sadly as she brought the older man into a hug. "He'll be alright, Nick."

But Nick didn't respond with words. All that came out were tears, tears, and more tears. He was clearly broken and Greg was his rock; he was everyone's rock and the team was slowly falling apart without him. Grissom was quiet…more than usual. He would go into Greg's lab area for results, but then remember that he wasn't there, look around sadly and then leave. Catherine always went to Greg lab and listened to his music, hoping that it would make her feel better. Like he was there. But it didn't; it just made her cry. Sara would sit in front of Greg's open locker and hold one of his crazy t-shirts that he wore. It smelled like him- Blue Hawaiian coffee and gunpowder. It made her smile. God, she hoped the kid would be alright…she _prayed._

~+CSI+~

"Are you sure you don't need me to stay, sweetie? I don't mind."

"Mom, I told you I'm fine. J-Just have a little fever, 'kay?"

"I know honey, but I'm just worried. What if you go into a relapse?"

"For the last time mom, I'll be okay. I have my friends to take care of me…I love you mom, but I'll be fine. The worst is over." Greg added a small grin for good measure as he squeezed his mom's hand soothingly. "I promise, mom, I'll be okay…and if things go bad…I'll…let you know."

Emma looked down at her son hesitantly before sighing. "Alright, but you _promise_ you'll let me know if you're getting sicker again"

"I promise mom," Greg chuckled, closing his eyes, because persuading his mother to leave was exhausting.

"Okay." Emma bent down and kissed Greg's warm forehead while smoothing out his hair. "I love you."

"Love you too mom. I'll call you later to let you know how I'm doing."

With one last squeeze to her son's hand, Emma left the room, homeward bound. She was gonna miss her Gregory, but she trusted his friends to take care of him. He'd be safe; she knew it.

~+CSI+~

Nick walked down the hallway quietly, feeling a bit uneasy about going to see Greg. Not that he was scared of the guy, he was just worried how Greg might react to the fact that he was in the hospital, because of his "best-friend." Emma had called a bit earlier, saying that she was heading home and that Greg needed them the most now. And now he was there, standing in front of Greg's door like he was getting ready to go into the principal's office. Taking a deep breath, Nick slowly pushed open the door to find Greg fast asleep, lying on his side with his cheek slightly propped up on his fist. He looked peaceful and Nick really didn't want to mess that up. Greg didn't need stress. Just as he was about to leave, a weak voice spoke, causing him to freeze.

"N-Nick? Where are you going?"

Nick closed his eyes before turning around and looking at his little brother. His eyes were still glassy and his face was still covered in sweat. He didn't want to do this now…actually not ever, but Greg had to know the truth.

"Ummm, I was just checking on you…wanted to make sure you were alright…how are you feeling?"

Greg sighed in annoyance. Why did everyone ask him that? And in a split second, a streak of anger coursed through him.

"How do you think I'm feeling?" He snapped, curling in on himself.

"Oh…" Nick said uneasily. That was weird.

Greg's eyes snapped open and looked at Nick guiltily. "Oh god Nick, I'm so sorry; I didn't mean to yell at you. I'm just…"

"It's fine Greggo, I understand."

"You sure?"

"G, don't worry about it, 'kay? You're fine," Nick smiled.

Greg smiled back, but noticed something was off with Nick. Without another word, Greg's eyes drooped close and he went silent. Nick actually thought the kid fell back asleep…until he spoke.

"Nicky?"

"Yeah, buddy?"

"H-How did…how did I end up here? I mean did I get hyperthermia? Did I pass out? Did I get shot?"

Nick swallowed nervously, not really ready to answer the question.

"Nick?"

"Umm…" it was now or never. And if he waited any longer, he knew the guilt would eat him alive. "Yeah…I've been meaning to tell you about that…"

So for the next ten minutes, Nick told Greg everything that happened between that fateful Wednesday to now. When he finished, Greg was quiet…which Nick knew wasn't a good thing.

"G?"

Greg frowned. This information was shocking. _Nick _got him here? He was the reason he was in this godforsaken place? He had no idea what to think and he knew he was making Nick nervous when he wasn't answering. How was he supposed to react to this?

"Greggo?"

He looked at Nick with dark brown eyes, confusion present on his face. He really didn't know what to say; he opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, but no sound coming from his throat. He could tell Nick was getting worried and he had to say something fast…but what?"

**TBC**

** Eeeekkk! REVIEWS! No new CSI tonight :(**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**LAST CHAPTER!**

Nick was scared. Why wasn't Greg saying anything?

"Greggo, come on buddy, say something. God, I know it's my fault and I can't blame you if you never want to talk to me again, but…just say something right now, please."

"…"

"Greg I'm so sorry for what I did if I can't say it enough. I understand that this must be it for our friendship and that you hate me so…I'll just head out."

Just as Nick was about to walk out the door, Greg finally spoke.

"Nick, no; I don't-"

Nick turned around and looked at the younger man with tired eyes. Greg sighed and wiped a hand down his face.

"I don't blame you, man."

"Well you should; maybe if I hadn't been such a dick to you that day, we wouldn't even be in this situation right now." Nick sat down and looked at the younger man seriously.

"Nick, you're a dick to me every day," Greg joked with a weak grin, trying to lighten the situation but failing. "That just happened to be the wrong time…and I get you're still hurting after Warrick; I know I could never replace him as your brother or your best friend.

Nick was stunned; Greg thought he meant nothing to him? God, what did he do?

"Dammit G, that's still no excuse. I was so pissed and absorbed in missing Warrick that I completely forgot that I still have you. I don't wanna lose you Greggo and don't think you mean nothing to me, because as far as I know, you mean a hellova lot. Yeah, you may not be able to wear 'Rick's shoes, but you're pretty damn close. You're my best friend, my little brother that I should be looking after, not making you feel like crap."

Greg swallowed thickly and looked down at his hands. His _trembling_ hands. Nick moved closer and grabbed them, squeezing gently.

"I am so, so sorry G. If I could take it all back, I would. If I could take your place, you bet that I damn would. I wish to god you didn't have to go through this…it should've been me, not you.

Greg finally looked up at the Texan with tears in his eyes.

"Nicky…shut up. I don't blame you so please stop berating yourself, okay? Please."

Greg's broken voice tore at Nick's heartstrings and the next thing both the boys knew, Nick grabbed Greg by the shoulders and pulled him to his chest. For a moment, since his brain was still fuzzy from the drugs and the fever, Greg was stunned. But when he realized what was going on, he lifted his arms and wrapped them around his big brother's torso. Tears threatened to fall so he squeezed his eyes shut in attempt to block them.

"I'm okay, Nicky. It's okay."

"I know G," Nick whispered, rubbing circles on Greg's back. "I know."

Ten minutes later found Greg asleep and Nick resting uncomfortably in the chair, his hand tremendously close to Greg's curled fingers. A huge weight had been lifted off his chest; he and Greg were- almost- back to normal.

~+CSI+~

**1 Week Later**

"Can we leave now?"

"Now hold on, bud, I think the doctor needs to agree before you're discharged."

"I'm fine, I don't need the doctor to see me," Greg grumbled.

"You still have a 99 degree fever plus your breathing sounds horrible, man; I don't see that as fine."

Greg sighed and wiped a hand down his face. "I'm fine, I'm just really tired."

"All the more reasons for you to stay here one more night."

"Nick, I'll kill myself before I can make it out of here; this place is friggin' torture."

"It is not," Nick scoffed and folded his hands across his chest, watching his friend fidget in the bed.

Greg looked over and raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

"Alright, maybe it's not all great, but what if you go into relapse?"

"You sound like my mother."

"Whatever. Greg, it's for your own health; I don't want to see you get sick again." _I wouldn't be able to handle it._

"Fine, I guess one more day couldn't hurt," Greg sulked, crossing his arms.

Nick rolled his eyes in amusement. "Look, if the doc says you can go home, I'll bring you to my place."

"What?"

"You're not staying alone, G, hell no. Like I said before: what if you go into relapse?"

"So…you're worried about me?" Greg said with a smug grin.

"Shut up," Nick chuckled, lightly punching Greg on the arm.

"Ow!"

"Oh come on, that didn't hurt."

"You're right, you hit like a nine year old girl."

"What? I'll have you know I was the star athlete on my boxing team, so don't go calling me weak."

They both laughed until Greg started coughing and was forced to stop. "Thanks Nick."

"For what?"

"Just…for everything."

Nick patted Greg on the shoulder. "You're welcome, bud. Now let's see what the doctor has to say about you leaving."

~+CSI+~

"You got off lucky," Nick mumbled. Personally, he thought Greg should've stayed in the hospital at least another day. If he had the authority, it would've been another week. Greg didn't look as well as he wanted the kid to look, but if the doctor said he was fine, then he figured it was the truth. All Greg had to do was rest, eat lightly, drink lots of fluids, take it easy, and take the prescribed antibiotics. Seemed easy enough.

"I told you I was fine."

"Yeah, yeah."

Once Greg was in his _new_ SUV, he got into the driver's seat and started the car.

"So, I'm starved; what do you feel like eating? Nothing big though."

When he received no response, he frowned, a spark of fear coursed through him. When he looked to his friend who was sitting in the passenger seat, he smiled and relaxed. The kid was exhausted; his forehead plastered on the window and his breathing, though scratchy, was deep and peaceful. Nick chuckled as he dug out his cell and dialed Catherine.

"Hey Cath….better. He's…" Nick looked over to Greg before finishing. "He's doing better, too. His fever is still high, but doc said it was okay for him to go home…no, I'm bringing him to my place right now. Doc said he didn't want him on his own just yet." _Lie. _I_ don't want him on his on his own._ "Okay bye, Catherine. Let everyone know Greg's okay and y'all are welcome to come see him if you want… alright…bye." Hanging up, Nick checked on Greg once more before focusing on the road ahead of them.

"Greg…Greggo wake up. G!" Nick huffed when Greg didn't move. He was somewhat worried and confused to why the kid wasn't waking up. He placed a hand on the younger man's forehead and pursed his lips. It felt really warm and he wondered if the kid was just conked out or really sick…again. "Come on man; don't make me carry you."

Still no answer.

"Fine, have it your way."

Nick jumped out of the vehicle and went to the other side, opening Greg's door. Luckily the kid's seatbelt was on or he'd of fallen right out. Nick would've caught him of course. He took Greg from underneath his arms and carefully dragged him out. Once he brought Greg's right arm around his neck and bringing his own arm around the slender waist, he kicked the door closed and slowly made his way towards his apartment.

"Hmm, what's going on," a sleepy voice said.

"Nice of you to join me, dude; geez you need to eat, I feel like I'm carrying a little girl."

"Shut…up," Greg said with a small smile as he managed to help Nick a little by picking up his feet.

Within ten minutes, Greg was fast asleep in Nick's guest room after taking the meds. Nick really wanted the kid to eat first, but Greg said he wasn't really hungry. He promised he'd eat after he slept and Nick was gonna hold him to that. He made his way to the kitchen and opened up the fridge. Sitting right there was one last bottle of beer; it was tempting, but he remembered his promise to his little brother. Once in a while it wasn't bad to drink, but he already crossed the line this time and he decided he should wait a bit before he drank again. He grabbed it, popped the cover and poured the liquid down the drain. _For Greggo._

Sighing in content, he threw the bottle in the trash and wiped both hands down his face. He was beat and he decided he was going to check in early tonight. After taking a sleeping pill, he trudged down the hall to his bedroom. When he passed the guest room, he thought he heard a groan and he frowned worriedly. He creaked open the door and peeked inside to find Greg sleeping peacefully. _Just his imagination. _Greg shifted a bit under the covers, his forehead creased a little, but other than that…well maybe he should just check his temperature. Quietly, he moved over next to the bed and placed his hand on the younger man's forehead and immediately grimaced.

"Dammit G." And just when he thought the kid was getting a little bit better. He quickly ran to the bathroom to get the thermometer and when he got back, he wasn't prepared for what he was about to see. Greg…he wasn't moving...well of course he wasn't, he was sleeping. But his chest; it was immobile.

"Greg?" He rushed over to the man's side, throwing the device onto the floor and put his fingers to the cold neck. No pulse.

"Son of a bitch; Greg!" He shook the man's shoulders violently in attempt to revive him. When that didn't work, he dragged him to the floor and began CPR.

"Greggo do this to me, please Greg don't!" And every time he went to listen for a heartbeat or a breath, nothing had changed. Greg was gone. What the hell had happened? God he knew Greg should've stayed in the hospital longer.

"Greg," he sobbed, cradling the limp body in his arms. "Greg!"

"Greg!" Nick bolted up from the couch and was met with darkness. His breathing was harsh and he could feel sweat pouring from his face and onto his t-shirt. He looked around and found that he was in his living room. When did he fall asleep? It had all been a nightmare? Had it? He jumped off the couch and ran to the guest room, praying that what he had endured in the dream was just that…a dream. A very terrifying one at that. He swung open the door and ran to the bed where his friend was- hopefully- sleeping.

"Greg! Greg, wake up!" He shook the man's shoulders in hopes that his dream had just messed with his head.

"N-Nick? Wha's going on?" Greg groaned tiredly.

"Oh thank god," Nick whispered, sitting the man up and wrapping his arms around his shoulders tightly.

"Ow, Nick what the hell? Are you okay?"

"Yeah buddy, I'm fine."

"Then why-"

Nick pulled back and cleared his throat. "You tell anyone I did that, I'll kill you."

Greg smiled and rubbed his eyes. He had a guess as to why Nick had suddenly almost pulled him out of bed and nearly squeezed him to death. Nightmare. God, the shit the man must've went through while he was in the hospital.

"You okay?" He said, not wanting to bring up the subject for the Texan unless he really wanted to talk about it.

"Yeah, I'm good man. Just go back to sleep."

"Alright," Greg yawned as he sank back into the pillows. Almost instantly, Greg was out cold and Nick could finally relax.

"Damn." He wiped a weary hand down his face before bringing the covers over Greg's shoulders and leaving the room. _That was a close one. _He trudged to his bedroom and collapsed onto his bed tiredly; that had taken a lot outta him. He rolled his head on the pillow and looked at a picture that was on his nightstand. He smiled as he picked it up. It was a photo of him, Warrick, and Greg at a sports bar, because they felt like Greg needed some guy time after the beating. He was still sporting some fading bruises, but he looked happy to be there. They had bought him hot wings and they had a contest of who could eat the most wings without water. He lost after five and that left Warrick and Greg neck and neck. Warrick ended up losing after thirty leaving Greg as the winner. He'd been so ecstatic and he bought them all rounds of beer. I think it was the best night of his life since the horrible incident. And since that incident, Nick realized one thing: Greg was _his_ responsibility, he was _his _little brother and he'd never forget that. He placed the frame back on the table and fell into a relaxed sleep.

**2 Years Earlier**

_"I can't believe you won, G!" Nick smiled._

_ "I can't believe I lost to you," Warrick grumbled._

_ "Why is that so hard to believe? I mean I _am_ the best at everything," Greg grinned smugly._

_ Nick pushed Greg's head playful as all three of them laughed, tipping their heads back as they drank their third beer._

_ "You know, I never thanked you guys. This…this really helps. After…you know…I didn't think anything would go back to the way it was. But I forgot that I have you guys; my _dysfunctional _family."_

_ "You know we'd do anything for you, Greggo," Nick said, becoming serious. "I hate that you went through that and from now on, you're my responsibility; you're my little brother, man."_

_ Greg smiled. "Thanks."_

_ "Alright, enough with this gooey-mushy love shit," Warrick cut in, signaling for the bartender to give them more beers. Nick and Greg shook their heads while rolling their eyes. Leave it to Warrick to 'ruin the moment.' But that's why they were brothers. When the drinks came, Warrick raised it for a toast._

_ "To us." _

_ "To us," both Nick said in unison. With that they clicked their bottles together and drank. While doing so, Greg realized how much everyone on Team Grissom meant to him; especially his two 'brothers.' Where would he be without them? He smiled to himself and toasted in his head._

_ "To my brothers; my family."_

**The End.**

** Hoped you like this last chapter, and thanks a bunch to EVERYONE who faved/alerted/reviewed to my story! I love you guys! Now onto True Blood Brothers (thanks for everyone who reviewed on that as well ;)) and finishing up Mauled for those of you read that :) Thanks!**


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